Will Bandages
by Burndom
Summary: This is my Creepypasta , if you don't like scary stuff, don't read. Thank you!


|| This is my Creepypasta, Will Bandages. Enjoy! ||

Will Bandages

My name is Will, and I am... Different.  
Not in the physical way. I was born normal looking. Black hair, reddish brown eyes both hands and feet. But I'm not like you. I never lived in fancy houses and had real friends. My family, as well as myself believed the world was a dark, terrible place filled with hate. None of us left our house. Everything we owned was delivered to us. I'd never actually seen out the door until the... accident. I never had real friends either. The only friends I'd ever had was my older brother and the friends we'd made online. To be honest... That's what kids are always told is wrong, right?

Well, my brother, when he was 17 and I was 14, met a girl. She was different to him. After he met her, he went, outside. He changed after that, at the time we didn't notice anything but I wish we had of. Then maybe things would have been different.

It was a year later they were supposed to be married. Within our house of course. But, on the way here, she was killed in a car crash. My brother was devastated. He wasn't the same. He locked himself in father's study until bedtime. When he'd come into our shared room, curl up in bed and talk himself to sleep. Things were pretty normal for us except my brother was haywire. Of course... That is until the week after she'd died.

When I woke up, the second my eyes were open I knew something was wrong. Something felt terribly off. I looked over at my brothers bed and the sheets were torn off and thrown around. I got up, despite my feelings of uneasiness. As I was walking to the bathroom my mother called me from downstairs. So I started to go down. As I descended, something clapped over my mouth and nose. The smell was intoxicating and darkness washed over my vision as I collapsed.

I woke to myself bound to a chair in a place I didn't recognize. Smelly, disgusting bandages were around my face in a gag. I looked around the room, my heartbeat pounding loud and fast in my chest. The last thing I could remember was being called downstairs by my mom and now I was here. The air around me reeked of urine, fecese, and blood. I coughed a few times, trying to rid myself of the disgustingness of the air, when I realized I wasn't alone.

Suddenly my brother stepped into view and my blood ran cold. The thing standing there wasn't my brother. My "brother" wouldn't grin like that. His "brother" wouldn't be pulled out a weird looking contraption that was foreign to me at the time, and he walked over. "Shh, little brother. Soon you will be free of the worlds ugliness. Never to see them again." The words sent shivers up my spine. What could he possibly be doing? What could he possibly mean by that? My brother suddenly reached out, attaching the device to my head so it was hanging over my right eye. I began to thrash in the chair violently as my brother sat infront of me. A spoon in one hand, scissors in the other. He reached out, caressing my face, grinning, before he quickly jabbed the spoon under my eye, popping it out with a wet schlick. I screamed. The pain was unbearable. I couldn't tell my tears from the warm blood that was dripping down my face. Everything hurt and my head felt ready to burst. I could feel my blood on my throat too from where it had dripped down my chin. "Sh little brother, the pain is almost over." My brother cooed, taking the scissors and cutting through the optic nerve and the veins that held the eye into the socket. My eye hit the ground with a sickening smack. I continued to scream, though the contraption on his face forced me to keep my empty eye socket open. The air hitting the inner, exposed muscles of my eye socket felt like knives stabbing into my brain. Suddenly gunshots rang out, and my brother slumped foreword, dead. Police swarmed inside but it was much too late for me. My eye was out and would never be able to be put back in. But, of course that wouldn't stop me from trying.

The police took me into custody. Apparently my brother had violently slaughtered my family and took me alone to torture. That didn't make me feel any better. They dumped me on my cousin, Alex's family. They were nice people. They tried not to stare at my bandages. But every time I turned my back I could hear their muted whispers and feel their eyes, all of their eyes, watching me.

They tried to get me to make friends but the other children my age made fun of me for my injury. So I was alone most of the time. It was just Alex and I. It wasn't long before the family forced me to go to to a community ball. Thousands upon thousands were there. And they all stared. Every. Single. One. I couldn't take it. Their stares. I stumbled into the kitchen only to find more stares. They burned me like fire. Why did they have to stare? Why was I so different just because I only had one eye. I felt my hand around the counter, and my hand nudged something hard. A knife. Long, razor sharp and ready to stab. I took it in my hand, looking around wearily, and my eyes fell upon a spoon. So I took that too, running out of the kitchen and out the side door.

I sat outside, I don't know how long, alone. It was beautiful. No one staring at me like I was a freak. Then a girl walked out. An ordinary girl. I looked up, now having my bandages off my face. Upon seeing my eye socket she squeaked and passed out. My anger flared. Who was she to judge me. The knife and spoon burned in my palm. I knew how to get her to stop staring. I'd make her like me. I crawled over to where she'd passed out and wrapped my bandages around her in a gag. She suddenly awoke and started squirming. She tried to scream, I could tell. But the gag stopped her. While she couldn't scream. She sure as hell squirmed. And it pissed me off, a lot. So I grabbed both her hands and the knife. I drove the blade down on her wrists. The knife stuck in the hard wood of the porch as I suspected. I looked up and watched in awe as scarlet blood streamed down her wrists. It was beautiful. Though all the while she squirmed in agony beneath me. I looked down on her and grinned as I sat on her, pinning her body beneath me. I raised my spoon and stabbed it down. In my eagerness to be free of her stare I punctured her puple more then once. Finally the spoon went under her eye and I twisted the spoon up. Her eye fell to the side of her socket. More scarlet liquid poured from her socket as I looked around for my knife. Realizing it was still in her wrist I grabbed her eye angrily and tore it out. For a second I was going to rid myself of the bloody thing before I realized what I could do with it. I shoved the eyeball in my socket, expecting light and life to spread from that side of my face. But noting happened. I growled and popped the useless thing out of my head. Then in my anger I stabbed the bloody spoon through her other eye, shearing it in two. I scooped it out, feeling the girls struggles weakening. After that I looked at my masterpiece as I ripped the knife from her wrists. She was beautiful now. Both eyes gone. Thrown to the side and smashed. Beautiful scarlet blood trailed lines down her empty eye sockets and cheeks. Her wrists were bloody as well. But something wasn't right. She wasn't complete. Suddenly it hit me. I tore the bandages from her mouth. But only weak, horse moans escaped her lips now. I tied a noose like I'd been taught in scouts. Grinning ear to ear and looking around. I looked up, seeing a hook for plant or otherwise hanging, on the side of the house. I dragged her dying body over, wrapped the noose over her head and hung her up, then dropped her hard. And just like that, with a sharp snap of her neck, she was dead.

That was when I went cold. I looked back at the door, walking back through it. It only took people a few minutes to see I was bloody. Though the first person to come close, a large woman, was soon on the ground, her throat slit. The screaming started. I couldn't hear myself think, I couldn't stand their screams. I attacked. Blood and bodies fell before me, easily being sliced by my knife, and I felt powerful. When I finished, there was not a soul in the building alive. Their blood was on everything including me. I stepped into the bathroom, washing my hands and shoes off, then I walked out the side door, looking at the beautiful corpse I'd made, and I promised myself, I'll make as many people as I can beautiful like that. Then I took off into the unknown.


End file.
